The Rose's Ruse
by lokiyan
Summary: I don't know anything about history so I am not at all qualified to write this, but let's have fun:Lord Harold Waldorf had fallen out of favor and now his daughter is the property of Captain Chuck Bass. She's not going to take this sitting down...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Let this disclaimer serve for all subsequent chapters: I do not and probably will never own anything relating to Gossip Girl.

The Rose's Ruse

Chapter 1

The ship arrived from the west - that much she knew for sure. She watched by her window as the men, grunting mountains of flesh as they were, tied the full, billowing sails at the dock. The flag of British Empire waved proudly at her against the dawning sun and she felt its power even if she could cover the distant thing with an outstretched hand. The chambermaid stories were enough to keep her lying awake at night, eyes wide and seeing those savages pillaging innocent villages and burning them to the ground.

An empire built on piracy was no empire for her. Even if the captain of the ship was devastatingly handsome.

She could almost hear his armor as he stepped out of his cabin, the silver shone a flare into her eyes. His hair, magnificent as spun gold, blew carelessly in the wind and though she could not make out his features as cleanly as she would like, she knew it to be beautiful. Everyone spoke of the captain of _The Rose_ and his devotion to riches and whores. It seemed impossible for her to believe that a man with such a face could be as villainous as the stories portray.

From the small window in her tower, Blair Waldorf watched the men who had come to take over her home. Lord Waldorf had displeased the king and following his beheading, his property was split amongst the king's current favorites. She looked down on them all - none of them were half the man her father was. He had been loyal to a fault, kind to his people, and sought for peace in lieu of greed and conquest. Lord Baizen was a disdainful, lecherous being who would, and had, turned his back on his brethren when he saw fit and _Captain_ Charles Bass, not even of royal blood, was not an ounce better in morality. Yet, here he stood proudly, with his head held high, at the reward of his bloodshed and theft.

She shook her head, hair still tangled from slumber, and willed herself to turn away. She still had to get ready - it would hardly do to meet the future master of the land in a white cotton nightdress. Just as she was about to turn away, the cherubic one looked up and they locked eyes. Her traitorous heart pounded against her chest and vapid breaths blew from between her lips. He gave a slight nod, which she returned. She was certain he could see her face, a pale rose lit by the dawning sun, and she hoped that he would be pleased with her.

A second figure, dressed in a white tunic covered by a velvet vest of deep plum approached the assumed captain and looked up to follow his companion's gaze. If Blair had been flushed warm by her captain's gaze, she burned crimson at the second's leer. She could hardly contain herself when he pointed and shared a laugh with the captain and contented herself with a huff and a pout before turning away.

There are no good English gentlemen left. Of that she was certain.

***

"We have not yet set foot on the soil and I am already half dead with boredom, Nathaniel."

It was unnatural that such a man as Nathaniel Archibald would willingly befriend and join one such as Charles "Chuck" Bass. Circumstance, however, was a powerful motivator and when his father's business in metal trade failed, Bartholomew Bass had lent a helping hand. Thus, the two grew as brothers and had been inseparable since. Nathaniel made certain to keep Chuck's indiscretions as tightly sealed as possible and Chuck was insistent that Nathaniel never had to do any of the heavy lifting aboard his ship. "Certainly, Chuck, even you can appreciate the fortune you have stumbled into." He finished polishing his shoulder guard and dressed fully. He had to look esteemed when presented to the lady of the house. Rumor foretold that Lady Waldorf was not an easy woman to please.

"Ah yes. It is exactly what my father wants, Nathaniel. A place to shackle his wayward son where he would learn discipline and responsibility and all that nonsense that is supposedly helpful in life. I assure you, friend, there exists no worse punishment for Chuck Bass." The young captain moaned from his bed as if he was burdened with a terrible ailment. "You know how I detest these country folk, Nathaniel, with their virtues and old, archaic ways. Bring me back to London if you even hold an ounce of love for me, brother."

"It is because I love you, Chuck, that I refuse your request. Surely, your father would have you killed on sight if he were to find that you had, once again, directly disobeyed his orders."

"He would not. He has no other heir and he has declared himself that he will take no other wife after my mother and his failed courtship with Lady van der Woodsen. An ingenuous declaration if you ask me."

"Oh? You will have your father die old and alone?"

Chuck swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for his black boots. "He retains all the sensibility and reputation of a grieving, loving widower while opening his arms to all the whores and ladies he desires." He strode to the mirror and stood beside his best friend. His breeches required a wash, but they would have to do for now. They were the only pair that matched his vest.

"I pray that you will not experience the pain your father must go through in missing your mother, Chuck." He looked at his friend's attire in the reflection. "Are you certain that you're properly dressed for meeting Lady Waldorf?"

"What do I care what the old bat thinks of me? I own her now and every breathing thing in this godforsaken place."

"It will do you well to be congenial with the former ruling family of the people, Chuck." He stepped out into the sun from the cabin of the ship and breathed in the fresh air as he took in the quaint little port before him. It was not as filthy as their usual stops and the women, surely much to Chuck's dismay, were covered modestly in their frocks, their faces unpainted. It only took him a moment to spot a pale figure by a window from the tallest stone tower in the town. Her dark features contrasted spectacularly with her porcelain skin and her lips were as ripe as the strawberries in his mother's garden.

She seemed to be looking curiously at the ships and he was certain that the young thing had never seen such a fleet as theirs before. To be sure, she wasn't as devastatingly beautiful as Serena, but he was charmed by her untamed brown curls and fresh face. Serena, even before her marriage, wore a perfumed powder everywhere she went and had her eyes and mouth painted exquisitely to go along with her extravagant gowns. It was the way of the van der Woodsen women. This girl, however, her innocence was refreshing, and he found himself greeting those doe eyes with a nod trained for court.

"It is not even the Lady Waldorf we will be meeting, Nathaniel. She is visiting a cousin in France. Her daughter is the one greeting us and I will not dress up for a tiny little speck who probably resembles a dog." Chuck followed his friend out and tried to catch his attention, but as he stared unwaveringly, Chuck followed his gaze. He smirked, a smirk famous on both sides of the English Channel, and pointed at the girl. "If the women all look like that here, perhaps I could myself entertained after all." He was even more amused when the little thing pouted those blessed lips and turned away, hidden from their sight.

"How is it possible that you can already offend someone without having set foot on the ground?" Nathaniel asked, a bit annoyed that his friend had frightened away the maiden.

"'Tis part of my charm, Archibald."

***

"Oh, if you had seen him, Jenny. It is apparent that he had no manners to speak of. Why any captain would associate himself with that sort of scoundrel is baffling! The boy was raised with wild animals, I am sure of it. His breeches were also unclean-"

The blond maid chuckled as she combed her lady's hair. She had grown up with Lady Blair's antics and she was grateful to be so used by her. "Milady, you saw him from a great distance. How could you be-"

"I am certain, Jenny. I absolutely cannot be around that sort of company. Although he seemed to be the Captain's First Mate. Oh, whatever should I do? If I must consort with that mannerless pig, I shall die, Jenny! I shall surely die!"

"Lady Blair! Why do you speak of death so early in the morn?" Her nanny had entered the room and took the comb from the blonde, who had been unable to tame her curls with the frantic shakes of her head. Jenny walked over to her dresser to prepare her garments for the day. "And why are you not dressed? You are to meet the gentlemen as soon as they arrive to the manor!"

"Oh, Dorota! Do not speak of such men! There are no more gentlemen in all of England! Not after my father." She hugged the woman who had been so good to her all these years. "They are dreadful, aren't they? The gold haired pirate captain and his dark featured friend."

"You are mistaken, Lady Blair. It is the pirate who is dark featured and the first mate who is-" Dorota paused when she felt the girl leave her bosom and grip her arms, staring deadly into her eyes.

"It cannot be. That-that _pig_ cannot be the one to ruin everything my father worked for. I-I am to sit at meals with him? Be civil to him? Play hostess to him?" At the maid's nod, she let out a dreadful sigh. "Oh, I feel faint. I cannot bear this news. Tell them that I will not be able to join them, that I have been struck with a terrible fever."

"Lady Blair! Your father would be very disappointed in you if he were to look down from heaven and see you in such a state. Now, get yourself ready to greet your guests. Remember, the fate of your people lie in your hands. Conduct yourself in a manner worthy of a lady." When Dorota used her authoritative voice, Blair would revert to her five year-old self. She pouted until the maid left her chambers to prepare the rest of the manor.

She watched on, dreading every moment as Jenny laid out her finest sapphire gown and gold sashes. Then she looked at the girl and a smile curled its way to her face. Sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere, the blond girl found that familiar expression on her mistress' face and became frightened. "Milady?"

"Jenny, remember when we used to play ruses when we were younger? The ones that would make my father laugh every time he recounted them?" Jenny nodded, a little less hopeful with each word. Those ruses often resulted in her punishment. "Let us play one last ruse. A game to end all games. It will be one for the ages." Jenny only prayed that she could keep her head at the end of this game.


	2. Chapter 2

The Rose's Ruse

Chapter 2

To say that Daniel Humphrey was nervous about meeting his new master was similar to saying that the butcher's wife was merely blessed with big bones for carrying cattle carcasses. He mumbled prayers under his breath, a vain attempt to stop himself from stumbling over his words later when he met the famed captain. He had heard all about him, of course, and was conflicted.

He envied Captain Bass for his adventures. There must be so many things to write about, places to explore, people to meet. How grand it must be to be the captain of his own ship. To be protected by the crown yet set sail whenever he wished. Not that he was not grateful for Lord Waldorf's kindness towards his family. Of course not. Daniel was merely curious about the world beyond this town. Because of the captain's worldliness though, he was wary. He liked the town for what it was. He liked the people there and their simple ways. He even liked Lady Blair, the girl he had looked after as a child and who continued to keep his life interesting with her whimsical nature, to put it kindly. Truly, he loved her dearly, perhaps as a sister, as she is oftened accompanied by his own flesh and blood. All he knew was that he liked seeing her smile.

He watched by the door of the manor as the two men approached and nearly stumbled down the stairs to meet him. All the practiced prayers were forgotten as he introduced himself. "Welcome, Master Bass. Sir Archibald. I am pleased to serve you on this beautiful day and if you don't mind-"

The brunette shoved his jacket and bag into his arms and proceeded past him and through the front door, not waiting to be led by anyone. It was the blonde who offered a hand. "Nathaniel will be fine for me. And your name, kind sir?"

"Daniel, sir. Daniel Humphrey. I have worked for the Waldorf family for as long as I can-"

"Come, Daniel. Before Chuck ransacks the house by himself. Let us follow." He took, stepped in ahead of Daniel, weighed down by his companion's possessions and walked through the door. Clumsily, he followed, trying his best not to spill anything onto the floor or make noise.

They were greeted by Dorota in the sitting room and were offered tea and asked to wait a moment until Lady Blair finished dressing. Chuck smirked at Nathaniel at the prospect of a half naked woman under the same roof and Nathaniel merely sipped his tea politely, all the while making inquiries regarding the architecture and local business. Daniel had never felt more awkward or invisible in his life, nor had he missed Lord Waldorf's gentle smile as much as he did at this moment.

The doors opened and the two most important young women in his life walked through them. His heart stopped. Surely, they could not be serious. He looked over at Dorota, who had raised him like a son, and saw his shock reflected upon her face.

For his sister had stepped in front in a curtsy, wearing her mistress's most expensive gown, and introduced herself as Lady Jennifer, while the real one stood behind her in her maid's garb, head down with undoubtedly sparkling eyes.

***

While Jenny led the gentlemen on the tour of the manorhouse, Blair could not help herself but rush to her father's study and collapse in his old chair, nearly bursting with laughter. Daniel followed her in and closed the door swiftly behind him. Her laughter subsided when she saw him march angrily towards her. "Have you completely lost your mind, Blair?" Asides, from her mother, he was now the only person in the house allowed to address her only by her name - a privilege given only by her and her father. Dorota, of course, was offered, but was trained to never perform such a breach in manner. "When they find out, and I assure you they will, Jenny will lose her head!"

"Daniel, will you relax? I am certain that no one has ever heard of me. Father hardly ever went to court and when he did, he detested speaking of us to those bloodthirsty dogs. When this game is over, I promise you that I will not allow any harm to come to Little Jenny. Won't you trust me?" She walked around the desk to him and placed her hands on his shoulders, gently kneading the tension that always seemed to be there and pushing him down onto the guest chair. She bent down to his ear and said softly, "Don't be angry, Daniel."

And of course, he would concede, as he always did. He padded a hand over hers and she smiled that same teeth showing smile that she bestowed upon her late father whenever he approved of her newest purchases or latest schemes.

"And what do we have here?" The two jumped up and turned around at the arrogant voice. Immediately, Daniel regretted agreeing to this.

***

Chuck Bass was not a fool, but he would play this girl's game for now. The challenge, at least, may prove to be entertaining and it does present itself as the perfect opportunity to show her once and for all that he was not just some brute. He would claim his territory through his wit as well. He was already impressed by how well this false lady knew the house and the whole scheme unraveled. The handmaiden, he was sure, was the flower he had seen at the window and the true lady of the house and this guide was, in fact, her maid.

Role reversal. Child's play.

She was a child, though, he supposed, so he would play along. She had scurried out of the room with the excuse to 'polish something' and he did not miss the bell-like giggle or the skip in her step. He regretted not learning her name.

And yet, here fate presented another opportunity. He must have a word with this Daniel. He did not like other men touching his things and, for all purposes under the flag, she belonged to him. She was one of the many treasures the king had bestowed upon him for his services to the crown and he intended on keeping her his. By the way she jumped at his voice and the way her blush spread across her cheeks in the way he stared, he would dare wager that she was untouched as well.

The silence was unbearable and even with her bowed head, he saw the power in her gaze as she tried to covertly glare at her partner in crime. "This, captain, would be my late father's study. I believe you have met Daniel Humphrey, my father's scribe, and this is La-" she paused. "Blair. This is Blair, my handmaiden." She curtsied again and he caught the grace in her movement. He almost felt sorry for her, as she played her role so well and yet her partner was clumsy in her speech.

He was determined to win. To do that, he would have to play the game, he supposed.

He slowly stepped towards her and placed a finger under her chin to tilt her face towards his. What a face it was - enough to tempt his men to throw themselves overboard just for a glimpse of that face. He had lain with many, but never one as pristine and doll-like as this. "Blair, was it?" His gaze moved down her body and in her cotton, peasant dress, he could see the curves that had recently blossomed. Her blush spread down her neck to her chest and he had never seen anything more beautiful.

"Aye, captain."

"As you are a maid in this household, you belong to me, do you understand? And so long as you belong to me, you will address me as 'lord.'" He watched her lips twitch. With her type of upbringing he just knew she wanted to debate his self-imposed title. He could also see out of the corner of his eye that his dear friend was about to come to the girl's rescue when he silenced him with a glance.

"Aye, milord." My lord. He liked the way that sound on her honey-dipped tongue.

"Very good. Now, I will be requiring your services in the future and I expect you to make yourself available to me at all hours, do you understand? I will treat you as well as your late master, but only if you follow my instructions with as much care as you have before."

"Aye," she said, her eyes hardening in a glare. He raised his eyebrows and smirked, waiting. "Milord," she grounded out.

That was one point for him. "Do you have a last name, Blair?"

"Aye, milord. 'Tis...Humphrey. Blair Humphrey." He detested the sound of another man's name attached to hers, but swallowed the jagged lump in his throat.

"I see. Siblings, I presume?" He passed a look between the two of them. "Yes, I do see the family resemblance." And that, he supposed as he walked out of the room, would probably keep any thoughts Daniel may have for Lady Blair away for a long, long time.

***

"I knew he would be dreadful, Dorota, I just knew it! Could you believe that he has me working and cleaning like a common servant?" She leaned her hip onto the kitchen counter while her maid kneaded the dough for the night's welcome feast. "To think, I of noble birth must call _him_, a common thief, lord and master."

Dorota wiped her forehead with the back of her forearm. "Perhaps if Lady Blair were to tell Captain Bass the truth, you would not be subjected to such labor."

"No! If I tell the truth, he wins!" She straightened a pin in her hair and looked on as her maid put one pie in the oven and removed the bird from where it had been roasting on the fire. The scent called to her hunger and she reached out, her fingertips greedy for a hint of that tough, flavorful skin hiding the soft, juicy meat.

"Lady Blair!" Dorota slapped her hand lightly away as if she had been chastising a child and she responded in kind, head down, slightly ashamed.

"Right. Focus, Blair. If he figures things out, he wins. If he figures things out, he wins. If he figure things out..." She paced the kitchen, repeating the mantra all the while. Her maid shook her head but went along with it. A busy Lady Blair is much better than a scheming Lady Blair.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks so much for your reviews! They definitely help with fueling the brain juices :).

The Rose's Ruse

Chapter 3

"Dinner is ready to be served in the dining room, milord," the chief maid announced before rushing back to the kitchen to stand at the ready. Chuck believed her name was something akin to Dakota, Dasoka...Dorota, that was it. He acknowledged her with a brief nod and proceeded to offer an arm to 'Lady Jennifer,' who accepted graciously all the while stepping on the tip of his boot. He winced, more at the scuff mark of his Italian boots than at the miniscule weight she'd put on him. He earnestly hoped that the pretty wench would finish this game soon, if only for the sake of his health. Her replacement had caused him enough injuries than he normally received within a month at sea.

He pulled the chair out for the girl and watched her jump when he gave the seat a nudge. She tucked her large blue skirts and busied herself while Chuck observed the way the rich color did nothing for the near sickly pale of her skin. He took his seat at the head of the table, Nathaniel on his right and the girl on his left. He supposed Lady Waldorf will be seated across from him when she returned from his trip. Was this what his life will be? Sitting at a dining table with his best friend and people who bored him to tears?

A door to the side was opened by his manservant and in walked Dorota carrying the roast for the evening, followed by a thin little thing carrying a large bowl of greens. He would be willing to place a bet on all of his possessions that this girl had never worked a day in his life. Her movements were graceful, but impractical. In the cotton servant's dress, her pale ankle peeked through when she kicked up in her step and his eyes drifted up what must be shapely legs to a thin waist until he met her eyes, standing right by his side.

He was amused by the fire in this one. She never turned her head to watch her hands as she spooned a large serving of spinach onto his plate. With the rebellion running amok in her eyes, he half expected her to drop the entire thing onto his lap. He was almost disappointed when she simply sniffed, head held up high and the pinned back curls bouncing behind her, and turned to her fair-haired friend and, with a small smile and a warning look (to keep her servant in line, Chuck guessed), served her as she did him.

Her smile grew, her straight row of white little teeth showing and she looked at Nathaniel from beneath her lashes, her wrist allowing the sleeve of the material to slide down ever so slightly as she served him. His friend seemed interested - a little too interested in the way her cheeks blushed a musty rose under his stare and Chuck sat back, arms crossed, to observe the exchange.

"Thank you, Miss Humphrey."

"I am but performing my duty, Sir Archibald. As I am but a servant here, Blair would suffice."

Chuck scowled at the smile gracing his friend's handsome face. "Blair it is then. And I insist that you address me as Nathaniel. Chuck is your master, not I."

Although he and Nathaniel have been dear friends for as long as he could remember and he never did like fighting over toys, it bothered Chuck more than he cared to admit to watch the two of them interact as though they'd grown up together, destined for one another. Especially when all he got from her was a smart tongue and hateful glares. "Yes, Blair. Nathaniel, however, does not enjoy his meal without a drop of refreshment. I expect you to know to bring up the wine without being asked. However did Lord and Lady Waldorf train you?"

She bit the inside of her cheek from spewing out the most unsightly words she could think of. "I apologize, milord."

"Well don't just stand there then, go fetch us a bottle. Your apologies will do nothing for my thirst." He watched her hips sway as she left the room in a huff and found himself thinking thoughts that would have Lord Waldorf come back from his grave to squeeze the images from his sinful mind.

"Chuck." He turned back to his companion. "Would it not be wise to treat Lady Jennifer's servants in a more genteel manner, especially in her presence?" Nathaniel turned his blue eyes at the girl across the table, who jumped at the attention. Chuck wanted to laugh at the alarmed little thing with her frightened, constantly moving eyeballs.

"Do I offend you, Lady Jennifer? I did not consider this possibility, but if you would rather I keep my preferences to myself or train the servants in your absence, that would be acceptible also."

Her lips moved, but only a small, croak filled the room as she tried to find the words her mistress would have spoken. "W-well, I-"

Luckily, her puppet mistress returned at the precise moment with one of her father's old wines from the cellar. She breezed right by Chuck, snarling at her complete ignorance of him, and appeared by Nathaniel, presenting the label to him. "Will this be acceptible, Sir Archibald?"

"Of course. And please, I do insist. Nathaniel will do."

"I am but a servant, as milord had just pointed out and would hate to speak out of my place. I have offended my master enough for one evening." She glared at him and he, pleased at finally being acknowledged, hardly noticed his own friend turning back to him.

"Chuck-"

He held up his hand to silence him, his eyes never leaving the other set of dark, dark eyes in the room. "If Nathaniel insists on something, Blair, you should, to the best of your ability, do as he asks." The blond, seeing that the issue seemed to have subsided, turned back to the fair girl with an easy smile, which she returned in a beat. Chuck admired her greatly in that moment in her ability to morph from her hostile demeaner to the sweet angel she presented herself as to Nathaniel. He wondered how it must feel to have an angel smile down on him.

***

The meal passed in relative peace, save for one incident involving an 'accidentally' dropped fork and her new 'master's' leer when she bent to pick up dirtied silver from the floor by his feet. She had to fight the urge to stab the offending instrument in his pantleg, but as a whole, Blair believed that she had done quite well for herself. She deserved this meal. So she sat, along with Dorota and Daniel, at the small round table with a plate full of bits and pieces of the courses, and prepared to gorge herself.

"Blair, I do beg you to reconsider. This is not for you. You were raised in luxury-"

"Are you saying that I cannot accomplish something, Daniel?" The boy looked down under her fierce gaze and tended to his piece of chicken while Dorota watched the children she'd raised in the faint light of the moon and the glow of the candles. Of course, Lady Blair was spoiled, but she was smart, smarter than most young ladies of her age. She would never regret the day she asked Lord Waldorf to ensure a proper education for his only child, even if education was an idea tailored for men.

"So Nathaniel, at least, seems decent and proper. He was awfully kind to me at the door."

"He is quite like a dream, is he not? Handsome, gentle, kind...and who said _you_ are allowed to call him Nathaniel?" A privilege such as that should be reserved for the young, unmarried lady of the house!

"He did." Blair grimaced at his mouthful of chewed meat.

"Daniel. Mind your manners." Never had Dorota seen her Lady Blair so pleased with a man. No one ever quite measured up and she was eager to find out more about this Nathaniel Archibald. Every good mother would want her daughter married to a loving, successful man and as Dorota never had a child of her own, she was ready to start planning the wedding herself.

"Oh, my apologies. Forgot we had a _lady_ with us," he teased. In a rare moment of childish play, Blair threw her handkerchief at him and laughed when he batted it to the floor. "I am not impressed by your surprise attacks. To be honest, I'm not sure about the captain, I have yet to actually, you know, converse with him without falling over myself."

"There isn't much to learn about the _captain_, is there? I am certain that all of the stories about him are true. He is nothing but a lewd, classless, unkind, rude, cretin with far too many women and -"

"Lady Blair?" All three heads turned towards the doorway to find Jenny Humphrey, her blond ringlets ready to fall apart and her dress weighing down her thin frame.

"Jenny! Shhhh! Don't call me _Lady_ Blair. The walls have ears!"

"Milady, I assure you. Captain Bass could not possibly be listening." Jenny despised being the bearer of bad news and because of this, averted her eyes as much as she could.

"Oh? And what makes you so certain?"

"B-because Captain Bass is in the washroom on the second floor. A-and he's requested that you prepare and _assist _in his bath."

***

The girl was more difficult than he had thought. To be honest, he didn't expect a noble-bred girl to last through an entire four-course meal as a servant, but he supposed this made things more enjoyable and interesting for him. Although now with this time-constraint...

The evening post arrived with a letter addressed to him from Lady Eleanor Waldorf, informing him of her return in three day's time. It was only fair that the girl also knows of this little obstruction in her game. It would simply not do for the Lady Waldorf to return to a house where her daughter was playing servant, not only for her, but for him as well. He would not be made to look like a fool who couldn't run a mere household.

He had to push her to forfeit.

Where was that girl in any case? It had been an excruciatingly long day and as much as he wished to torture and embarass her with the task, he did genuinely want a bath as well. For a sea captain, he enjoyed cleanliness and promoted it amongst his crew. He was, after all, raised by a wealthy businessman.

The soft rapping on the door alerted him and he sprawled himself on the chair, legs casually thrown straight out ahead of him with his spine curving against the back cushion - the very picture of decadent nonchalance. "Enter." There was a jumble of the doorknob and he knitted his brows. This was the sort of clumsy behavior he expected from the girl's maid, Jennifer.

From the crack of the opening door, an arm shot out into the room, fingers outstretched and in small, shuffling steps, Blair Waldorf stepped into the room with one hand covering her eyes. He snickered, obviously Jennifer had passed on his message. "Woman, what are you doing?"

"Milord," she quickly curtsied in the direction of his voice. With one hand on her face, she nearly lost her balance and tumbled into the small table by the tub. He reached for her arm to steady her and attempted to pull her hand away, but she steadfastedly refused. "I am afraid you are indecent, milord."

His face was close and she could feel his breath on against the skin of her cheek and on her fingers. "Relax, Blair. I am completely dressed." She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and made sure it was visible to him. Of course the little thing would be difficult. He grasped her other arm and in a swift, surprising yank, pulled her palm flat onto his cloth covered chest. She struggled at first and he was certain that she had never stood this close to a man (he did not count that bumbling scribe as anything close to a man) and it was endearing when her tiny hand gave up the fight and her eyes peeked out from between opening fingers. "Disappointed?"

She quickly straightened herself, an absolute refusal to acknowledge the embarassing situation that had just occurred. "What sort of assistance will you be requiring, milord?"

"Well, we shall get to that later. First, I will need you to fill up the tub with water. I do believe there is a well behind the house." He looked at her thin arms and then at the round tub and finally at two small water buckets with which she will make her trips. Her jaw dropped slightly at the seemingly impossibility of the task, but when she spotted his smirk, she gave one in return.

"Yes, milord." There was no way she would give up that easily.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you guys so much for your responses! It really is an ego-booster :)!!

The Rose's Ruse

Chapter 4

By the third trip, her arms were giving out. She was certain that beneath the sleeves, her muscles were rotting away and that somewhere in her home, that evil cretin was snickering in the most asinine manner at her suffering. Earlier, she sought out Dan only to find that the evil captain had thought one step ahead of her and sent him on an errand in town. Dorota was busy putting on finishing touches in several of the guestrooms and she could hardly ask her newly-appointed 'Lady Jennifer' to carry buckets.

She sat down on a step at the back entrance of the house to rest. Strands of hair fell in her face and she hardly cared anymore for the state of her dress (although she supposed she would have to purchase a new set for Jenny). She watched her shadow on the floor, lit by the light emitted from the interior of the house and bent her arms to relieve the aching.

Her shadow was engulfed suddenly by the figure of a man behind her and she sighed. "Yes, milord. I will get right back to-"

"Blair?" Her head whipped around to find Nathaniel standing by the doorframe. He'd changed into a white cotton shirt and brown breeches and she had never seen anyone who resembled a prince as much as he did in that moment. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, of course, Nathaniel. Just taking a rest is all." She desperately wished that she didn't have sweat coating her skin from physical exertion, but he politely did not take notice. If it had been that Chuck, Blair was sure he would have made some sort of comment already. She winced again when she stretched out her arms in front of her and her nearly nonexistent muscles screeched in protest.

"Are you all right?" He sat beside her and caught sight of the bucketsful of water on either side of her feet. "Oh no, Chuck hasn't ordered you to perform such manual labor, has he?" She nodded, her lips turned into a frown and her eyes downcast. What would a gentleman like Nathaniel Archibald think of her now? She found herself wishing that she could at least have a bow in her hair. "Well, my apologies. Chuck just isn't used to being in the presence of ladies. Here, allow me." The next thing she knew, she was mesmerized by the way his strong arms flexed beneath his thin cotton shirt as he walked steady steps down the hall with the two buckets hardly swinging on either side of him.

***

Chuck re-entered the washroom after a short while and was pleased to see the tub nearly full. Perhaps the girl had some strength in her after all. He undid the laces of his shirt and pulled it off, throwing it carelessly onto a chair in the corner of the room. He'd just thrown off his shoes when the door open and the tub was filled with the last two buckets, by someone he didn't expect at all. "Blair, you sure grew a lot from all this water carrying."

His friend gave him a reproachful gaze. "Chuck. I'm surprised that you would send a fragile girl to do such difficult work. Where's Daniel?"

If his dear friend thought that this girl was "fragile," he truly wasn't very bright. Sure, she may be a lady and raised as such, but this one is a little spitfire. "Daniel is running an errand for me in town. If I'd known you enjoyed such labor, Nathaniel, I would have sent you out to the stables."

"We were not raised to allow ladies to suffer such drudgery, Chuck."

"Nathaniel, do we require another- Oh!" Upon entering and seeing a man's chest on display, Blair instinctively turned and covered her face. "L-lord Bass, I was not aware-"

"Lord Bass is my father." Blair nearly protested. She knew for certain that the Bass name did not hold a title in court. "Lord Chuck will do. Now that you have manipulated my guest into performing your duty-"

She went to protest, but the squeak could not be overheard from the maneside her. "I offered, Chuck. I could hardly allow this young lady to-"

"That will be all, Nathaniel. I have my own methods of training my own servants. Now, if you will excuse me, that is, unless you would like to join-"

"I will be going then. Come along, Blair." He grasped her lightly by her upper arm and she could feel the warmth of his hand radiate through the cotton. Her heart swelled as she looked up at him, the man who would save her from this-.

"The girl stays, Nathaniel." She froze, every inch of her spine stacked neatly on top of each other straightened and she turned her head slowly, careful to keep her eyes above his neck. The look on her face was highly amusing, to say the least. "I did say I require assistance."

"You had no trouble bathing on your own aboard the ship, Chuck. I believe you will find that bathing on solid ground is not much different." Even Nathaniel had the decency to turn his face when his friend shed the last of his clothing and climbed into the tub, his head leaned back against the edge. "You will be fine on your own, I am sure. Come, Blair."

"I said the girl stays, Nathaniel." Chuck wasn't used to having his orders directly disobeyed and he was certainly not going to make a habit of allowing for it. Not even for his friend, who seemed to be taking far too many liberties with his property. "There are a few luxuries that I appreciate on dry land and having my back washed by a woman is one of them. Don't worry, Nathaniel. Virgins hardly ever stir my interest."

Blair blushed bright red at the comment and the indignity of being spoken about as though she were not in the room. She could already see that this man had backed her into a corner, and the only way she had was to fight her way out of it by confrontation. "No worries, Nathaniel. I am sure I can handle myself. I do live to serve." She sent a glare his way and he smiled in return, his teeth mocking her as they peeked between his lips in mock innocence. She was certain there was not one innocent bone in that man's body.

Nathaniel nodded, and with a quick assurance of yelling if the maid needed help, left the room. Almost with a sense of foreboding, she turned towards him and found his annoying head bobbing in the water, his body crouched in the deep, circular tub. "Alone at last," he said as he watched the seemingly defenseless little thing. She gripped the washing rag in her hands and wrangled it nervously and he almost chuckled - so the girl was not all pomp and audacity. "Come closer, kitten. I promise I will not bite, but only require a good washing."

He watched her inch toward him and was satisfied. A little fear was good for someone like her. Perhaps he could teach her a thing or two about respect. She may not be a maid, but he would certainly not allow any of his subjects to question him. She knelt on a step stool beside the tub so they were face to face and she met his gaze for a moment. Suddenly, this all seemed like a terrible idea to him for his body was responding to her soft coral lips and big doe eyes. Her small hand trembled beneath the cloth when she touched his chest, feather-light touches that made his eyelids flutter. He grasped her wrist and pulled her closer. "You are scrubbing away the day's filth, Blair, not petting a pup." Out of spite, she presses the rough material hard against his shoulder and rub down, making the patch of skin red and raw. He tightened his jaw but could hardly suppress the wince that reacted to the pain. "There's a girl."

He was pleased when, after the initial tom-foolery, she, a girl who had probably never worked a day in her life, scrubbed in earnest. She kept her hands to his chest and he was slightly amused to peek and find her face bright scarlet and her curls mussed, but her eyes remained focus on whichever spot she was working on. She jumped when he moved to turn around. "Relax. My back requires your attention as well." The water was heaven on his back until he heard a loud splash behind him.

"Um, could you perhaps-" The girl had dropped the rag into the depths of the tub, right beside his feet. He smirked at the opportunity to embarass the girl some more.

"Of course not. I'm not here to work. I'm afraid you'll have to improvise." He heard a little "hmph" and felt satisfied with himself. Behind him, he could practically hear the girl think. Finally, he felt her tiny hands on his back, soft padded fingers expectedly against his weathered skin, and he let out a sigh. Her hands worked at the knots in his back and he felt himself turn into a puddle under her touch - a very dangerous thing for the girl to know.

She felt his muscles under his hands, not bulging but they were there. Judging by his physique, he was definitely the sort of captain who sat in his cabin and ordered his staff around while twirling a glass of scotch in one hand and holding a whore in the other. She scoffed at first, but the way she felt him soften and loosen under her hands was, well, endearing. He leaned forward, allowing her access to more of his skin and she thought to herself, almost feeling slightly blasphemous, that like this, in her hands, he wasn't too bad. He sighed, his body surrendering to her attention. "Is... is this all right, milord?"

He let out a grunt, quite possibly the most manly action she had witnessed him performing, and let his forehead lean forward and rest on the edge of the tub. "Oh woman, you most certainly must have done this before."

"I have not!" she said, most indignant. He mused at her reaction - the girl has probably never seen a naked man before, let alone be in the same room as one. "That is- well, you see, Lord Waldorf never asked me to do such a thing." She had started out nervous, trying to cover up her lie, but her tone soften as she reminisced about the man who had ruled the household before him.

"Tell me about him."

"About who?"

Your father. "Lord Waldorf." Her hands froze and he wondered if he'd pushed the game too far with a move that he hadn't even anticipated. He waited. It was her move now and he wouldn't push if that was what she wanted.

In a voice smaller than he'd ever heard from her, she replied, all the while resuming her movements with less vigor than before, "I'd rather not speak of the dead, sir." He would let her slip up pass this time.

The silence in combination with the cooling water sent the hairs on the back of his neck standing. "Well, you will be happy to hear that your mistress will return in three days." He smirked when her fingers tightened against his skin. The clever girl apparently understood that their game must come to an end.

He just hoped that it would finish properly with fireworks.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks again for you guys' support. It makes me happen to know that people are entertained by my little foray into historically inaccurate fiction! :)

The Rose's Ruse

Chapter 5

She found him the next morning in the library. He'd taken his breakfast there and amongst the chaos, she could spot the croissant. She wanted to yell at him, command him to cease and desist, scream "what are you doing?" but she bit her tongue. Instead, in the most servile voice she could muster, inquired, "Is there anything I can help you with, milord?"

Books that had once been on her father's shelves were stacked, piles around the mahogany desk in the very room that Chuck Bass had first addressed her in. Her father had loved that room and now he was defiling it. "Ah well, not anymore than you already have last night, Blair."

She flushed to the roots of her hair. Had he no shame? She had spent the entire night trying to forget the fact that she had seen his bare flesh, touched the skin now hidden beneath thing layers of cotton and here he was, speaking openly of it as if he were discussing rain levels for the season. "The books sir." He gave her a quick glance and she corrected herself. "Milord, what do you intend to do with them?"

"It is not the servant's place to question the master, Blair." _But she looked so cute in her little white dress_. "But since you asked so nicely, I will overlook that slight misgiving. I am having my own books shipped over and I am afraid this is the only room fitting for them. I shall have to move these to the attic, or perhaps sell them. Most of them are hardly in decent shape - overused and bent. I have no use for-" He looked up to find her head down, lips trembling. In the day that he'd known her, that he'd played her little game, he had never seen her look so defeated. "Is there something wrong, Blair?"

She started at her name and shook her tears back. This was not the way to win wars, she had to remind herself. "No, milord. It's just, well. Lord Waldorf was so attached to his books and... well, I-Lady Jennifer would not be able to bear it if they were to be hidden in some dark corner to collect dust."

He stared as she spoke, her eyes never quite meeting his. He couldn't find the little girl who had been so playful as to renounce her title for a ruse, but rather a girl grieving for her beloved father. "You were close, then. You and your f... former lord."

"Like a father," she whispered. She looked lovely at that moment, the sunlight streaming through the windows, lighting her dark curls with a golden hue. Her skin glowed pearl and her plain dress reflected that light into his eyes. She appeared like an angel.

He coughed, catching himself in an awkwardly sentimental moment. This country air must be making him ill. "I'm sure if this matter concerns the lady as much as you predict, there is no reason why we could not have Daniel put in some bookshelves in her quarters."

Her eyes lit up and her smile was nearly blinding in the sun. "Really? Oh milord, that would make my lady oh so happy!"

"I do aim to please." He knew that she'd been sleeping in the servants' quarters as part of the guise (he had to hand it to her, the girl was dedicated to her craft), but she would eventually have to move back to the rooms that Jennifer currently occupied. The tower in which he first glimpsed at her.

"Her favorites are the blue leather bound volumes. Oh, and the _Adventures of Sir William_ is a must. And-" She rattled off the names of books from a variety of genres, books that her father had read to her.

"I am certain that you will be able to choose the ones most suited for your lady. If you will excuse me, I do have to organize my office."

"Oh, of course! I apologize, milord, for taking up your time. I will bring in some tea for you right away. To have while you work, as Lord Waldorf always had. And perhaps some biscuits. What is your favorite?"

It was an odd question. No one had ever asked his personal preference in domestic matters, he had always just taken what he could. The happiness that radiated from her warmed him. It took him a moment to come up with the answer, all the while staring at her excited face. "Some Earl Grey would do wonders, Blair."

When she turned, her curls fanned out around her and he was tempted to reach out for them. He would have, in other circumstances, as he had never been shy about getting what he wanted. With this one, he wasn't sure. He told himself it was because of the fact that he actually had to live with this one, that he couldn't just kick her out of bed in the morning. There was only a tiny part of him that acknowledged the fact that perhaps, she was a beautiful venus flytrap waiting to devour him.

***

She decided that he couldn't be that bad. Well, that wasn't true - he was absolutely horrendous and she had seen way more of him than was appropriate, but at least there was a tiny flicker of hope that he may, indeed, be human. After all, he had treated her as one would treat a maid and that wasn't entirely his fault. She was just too clever in her disguise, she supposed. Jenny definitely didn't seem to mind him too much, although she did avoid him at all cost. Well, he was friends with Nathaniel, so he couldn't possibly be completely without a soul.

Dorota busied herself with the preparation of tea and biscuits, but when she heard footsteps, Blair rose from her position of leaning against the kitchen table and scrambled to arrange the treats onto a tray. She sighed in relief to see that it had only been Nathaniel, dressed in a gold-threaded vest over his tunic, his hands clasped behind his back. She gave a small curtsy, as did Dorota, and prayed that her hair hadn't completely matted into an uncontrollable mess from the steam in the room.

He bowed gentlemanly in return. "How are you today, Blair?"

"I am well, thank you. And yourself, Nathaniel?"

He marveled at the dimple right below her prominent cheekbones and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. She was lovely, indeed, especially the way she blushed deep like a rose and looked shyly down before sneaking her glance back up, eyes bright. "I was wondering if you could ride into town with me today, Blair. Show me around?"

She was just about to agree when Dorota nudged at her arm and gestured to the tray in her hands, which she placed back on the table before turning to the man beside her. "Oh, well. I was actually about to bring this up to Lord Chuck and help him select the books for Lady Jennifer's new bookcase."

"No matter, I shall wait. I will be in the stable getting the horses ready. Please come meet me when you are through with your work with Chuck."

She nodded quickly and watched him go. "Dorota," she said as she picked up the tray.

"Wait, Lady Blair-"

"Today is going to be a wonderful day."

"-The tea wasn't ready."

***

It was difficult to find anyone who had the leisure to read, let alone a woman, but the way she ran her fingers down the weathered spine of one of his favorite books did strange things to him. She never spoke a word, of course not, that would give away the little masquarade, but the little smile on her petal lips brought about an air of peace and reflection. One would never look at a text so reverently had she not dove into the spaces between the words and bathed in the depths of the author.

Of course, no woman was perfect. The tea she'd steeped was atrocious in the worse way and probably permanently turned him away from Earl Grey, but he wasn't particularly attached to the brew anyway. As he stacked his own books onto the shelf (he could hardly trust a plebian such as Humphrey to handle his genuine leather bound volumes), he watched her out of the corner of her eye. She was supposed to only select a few from the stack and allow the rest to collect dust in the attic, but she seemed unwilling to part with any of them, stating how 'distraught' Lady Jennifer would be. He supposed that just left more work for Humphrey.

"All right," she announced finally, smiling proudly at a stack of about four books amongst the dozens they'd pulled down. "These can be put away. I believe Lady Jennifer will be able to part with them." She shoved the tiny stack aside and turned her attention to the stacks of novels piled on the carpet. Her palms pressed together in a silent clap and her eyes shining with excitement.

"I'll have Humphrey get them to Lady Jennifer's rooms when he returns from his errands. He should know about what to do with the shelfing?"

"Oh yes. In fact, Daniel helped fa- Lord Waldorf build these shelves as well."

She rarely talked about her father at all and so at the sound of his name, Chuck turned his head towards her. He inquired with his nose scrunched at the very idea. "Lord Waldorf engaged in such activities as... carpentry?"

She smiled fondly, far away and unaware of his gaze. "He used to say that physical exercise was good for the soul. It beat all the manipulative backstabbing at the court and it helped him keep his figure. He was always a bit vain."

He oddly felt nostalgic in the way she spoke, yet he knew that it could not be from his own memory. He could never speak about his father so fondly as she had with hers. It would help if they actually engaged in a conversation that didn't boil down to him being a disappointment. "He sounds like a very interesting man."

"It is difficult to find a decent man who disliked him. He was the kindest gentleman I've ever known." They fell into a comfortable silence as she organized the books and he finished putting the rest of his away. He was exhausted when the shelf was stacked completely. "May I be dismissed now, Lord Chuck?"

He had not realized that they'd spent a good portion of the past two hours together - time had never gone by so quickly in his idle life before. The dull company he kept back in London, Nathaniel excluded, made life feel never ending. "Of course," he replied reluctantly. "I'm sure Dorota will be requiring your assistance. Tell her that I am responsible for your absence. I shall have Humphrey begin on the construction of the shelf at once." She nodded and curtsied quickly before hurrying out of the room and he wondered where she was in such a rush to get to.

He would, of course, turn to the window in a few moments and spy the brunette riding down the stone road into town, his friend's brilliant smile blinding in the sun and her adoring eyes fixed on his golden hair. The scowl on his face was unfamiliar to him. The cause, even more so. Jealousy was a complete stranger to Chuck Bass.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So I'm not sure how many of you are going to jump ship on this after this chapter, but I'm gonna pull a Stephanie Savage (what is the world coming to?) and tell you to hang in there. Seriously. Gotta get worse before it gets better, right? ... Right. If you don't leave, I'll give you a cookie :) I adore you guys! Keep reading and let me know what you think!

Chapter 6

"Nathaniel!" He had looked glorious standing there in his riding boots, brushing down the palomino. On the other side, her side saddle was set upon her own steed.

He looked up at her rushing towards him and smiled brilliantly, his blue eyes compacting the wide expanse of the sky within them. "Blair, I'm glad you made it." She smiled shyly and wondered - how could anyone be that handsome? "I already got Lady Jennifer's permission to borrow her horses. Are you ready to go?" She nodded again and headed towards her own horse. From years of practice, she could certainly climb on by herself, but who was she to refuse a gentleman's help. As she hoisted herself up, he'd placed one hand beneath a dainty foot and one around her waist and she felt his strength and he lifted her until she was comfortably seated. "Good?"

"Thank you, Nathaniel."

He walked around and got on the palomino while she arranged her skirts to cascade smoothly around her feet. With his feet planted firmly in the stirrups, he grabbed the reins of her horse with one hand, placed it behind his back and led the two of them out of the stable and onto the road.

Blair began to panic when on the roads, people paused and greeted her, bowing as they were accustomed to do. She learned that Nathaniel had a surprisingly trusting nature as he never questioned her after she lied in saying that the greeting was due to the immense respect the people had for the Waldorf lordship. His only response being that he regretted never having the chance to meet Lord Waldorf, who seemed to be such a wonderful, kind leader.

She felt comfortable, she decided, with Nathaniel. They had walked through the streets, sat at a tavern when she complained of being tired, he had plucked a blossom from a tree that she had been admiring. Everything just felt... right. He had the perfect responses to everything. She had asked him what he liked best about coming here and, without skipping a beat, he replied with a simple "meeting you."

Really, she couldn't imagine anyone more perfect - and she had been imagining this for quite some time. And because he was so perfect, she went out with him a second time the day after.

***

"You should retire early tonight, Lady Jennifer." Jenny started, her knife and fork stilled. He had hardly spoken more than a few words to her since he had arrived and now he was giving her... orders? "You ought to be well rested for your mother's arrival."

"Right, yes, of course. I-"

The front door to the manor swung open and was banged shut, followed by a twinkling of laughter. The pair stumbled into the dining hall, drenched with rain and cheeks red with mirth. "Chuck! I apologize for my tardiness. Please do not lay any blame on Blair, we merely was caught in the torrential downpour-"

"Of course not, brother. Please join us when you are ready. I will have Dorota put out another place setting." The blonde walked off, the grin still wide across his face as he stared into the eyes of the lovely girl with whom he had spent the most wonderful two days. She stared after him until he was out of sight, until she felt _his_ eyes on her. "And _Blair_, please go clean yourself up as well. I am sure Lady Jennifer would be distraught to have a sick, bed-ridden maid in her arsenal."

She bit down, all the light-heartedness sucked out of the room at Nathaniel's departure. "Yes, milord."

"And while I appreciate the... _consideration_ you have granted my friend, as head of the household, I would appreciate it if you would present yourself in a more ladylike manner when you are out in public. I could hardly be respected if my own servants are prancing around town dressed like trollops." She gasped indignantly, her face and neck now an angry red while the 'lady' at the table paled, her light blue eyes wide and shifting. He knew his words were unkind, but he could hardly help himself.

How could he be blamed when he had to suffer through the two of them waltzing through the foyer yesterday, eyes all alight and sparkling as they beheld each other, the secret glances and smiles right under his nose throughout supper last night and breakfast this morning. That teasing little smile of hers, directed always at Nathaniel mocked him, tempted him to bite and suck on those lips until all she could think of, all she could imagine thinking of, was him.

Her soaked bodice clung to her frame and called out to him, but then he remembered how, or rather, in whose presence it became that way and he glared, ignoring the clenched fists at her sides, ignoring her tightening jaw and her brimstone eyes. "Now do remove yourself and make yourself presentable as we have not yet finished with our supper and would like to keep our appetites."

"Gladly." She turned swiftly, beads of water catapulted in his direction, and disappeared through the servants' entrance.

He turned his attention back to the quivering girl at the table. "Yes, Lady Jennifer. I do suggest that you retire early tonight." He carried on as before, as though the image of her curves were not burned into his retinas, nor were the sound of her laughter beating in his eardrums.

Moments later, Nathaniel returned, now dry and properly attired, he beamed with a triumphant glow from which Chuck found himself cowering. He sat at Chuck's right hand, as he always did, and before tucking in, asked "where's Blair?"

"I sent her to clean herself up. I would appreciate it if you didn't get my entire household sick, Nathaniel."

"The weather is difficult to predict. Yet, even in the rain, Blair looks-"

Listening to Nathaniel ramble on, Chuck glowered. No, his temper was most definitely not his fault.

***

The moment Blair had entered the kitchen, cold, wet and shaking, Daniel and Dorota knew what to do. Daniel immediately drew a bath while Dorota set out a plate, even if supper in the dining room had not yet finished. She devoured her food in silence, her eyes following Daniel as he crossed the room with the pails, fidgeting under her gaze and wary of her temper as he had always been, even if he was older.

It was not until later, sitting in the bath with her knees drawn up to her chest that she suddenly exclaimed, "that Chuck Basstard!"

"Lady Blair! Language!" Dorota sat by her, washing her charge's clothes in a wooden basin. Daniel would attend to the meal adequately.

"What do I care, Dorota? Mother will be back tomorrow anyway and I will reveal to him what an absolute fool he has been! Then we shall see if he still dares to call me trollop, especially when _he_ is the pig."

"But Master Chuck now owns the estate, Lady Blair. Even Lady Eleanor would have to answer to him."

Blair scoffed and splashed the maid in punishment. "Bite your tongue, Dorota! Mother submits to no one. And if it is required by law, well, I will march to the capital myself and insist upon His Majesty that I require a less... slovenly, disgusting, immoral, cruel, unkind _pirate_ as a lord."

She seemed satisfied with herself and so Dorota stayed silent for a while, knowing not to interrupt her mistress' self admiration. As she finished with the dress and moved on to the next garment, however, she muttered, "Master Chuck is not so bad."

Now she was nearly drenched as Blair turned swiftly to pin her with her glare. "Is that treachery I detect on your tongue, Dorota? This is the man who is taking over everything my father worked for! The one who is out to destroy me!"

"Of course I stay loyal to Lord Waldorf. But Lady Blair, yesterday, when you patched his pants and purposefully tore it to shreds, he did not yell. And with the terrible tasting tea, he did not reprimand. And now he has filled your room with your favorite books. I only believe that there are those out there who would make much worse lords."

Blair let out a frustrated grunt. "He's already won you over! That is nothing, Dorota! I am certain he has got something nasty up his ruffled sleeve. In fact, I should have done worse. Perhaps I shall let him bath in my dirty bathwater tonight. You should have seen the way he looked at me in the dining room. I honestly do not understand how Nathaniel can be friends with him. And you made that terrible tea, Dorota, don't blame it on me!"

"Of course, Lady Blair."

***

She placed the candle on the little table beside the door and went to check the locks before turning in for the night. The flame illuminated her curls and her white cotton gown glowed beautiful, the curve of the back of her neck exposed slightly through her mahogany hair. That stretch of skin looked so warm, inviting, and his feet shuffled him closer to her, his hand-

"Oh, milord, you startled me!" She had turned and somehow he missed it and somehow he was still a few feet away when he thought she was within reach. He held onto the railing of the staircase for support and looked again at her, face swimming in candlelight. Her hand rested below her left collarbone and he watched her chest rise and fall beneath her fingers.

"Did I now? Wouldn't want to frighten the fragile little maid," he slurred and leaned against the railing now, head falling back. Her petite little nose scrunched up, perhaps she could smell the stench of alcohol seeping out of him. "Oh, don't be such a prude. Haven't had a decent drink since we've landed."

She grew wary of him and he could tell by the way her whole body shrank back against the door. He stumbled closer to the white blur that she became in his eyes and fell forward, his hand right beside her head was balancing him as he rested his weight on it. From this distance, a faint floral scent invaded his senses and he buried his nose into her hair, completely unaware of her trembling. "Haven't had a woman since either." His lips fell to the junction of her neck and shoulder and her chest rose to meet his in her sudden intake of air.

His tongue darted out to taste her for one second and he found himself stumbling backwards, the girl staring at him with wide eyes and a hand covering the spot where his mouth had been. Finally, a tinge of fear. The girl had taken her liberties too far lately, but at the same time it aggravated him that she was so shaken by his advances. Undoubtedly when Nathaniel made the same moves, she-

He felt his face twist into an angry snarl at the thought of Nathaniel getting his hands all over her, at the dip of her waist to the curve of her neck, peeking beneath her prim skirts and tasting her tongue on his. It's not that he minded sharing and he'd offered up his girls in the past, especially with someone he considered his brother, but something about this woman just sent his blood boiling, his stomach flapping like the wings of a seagull. No, he wouldn't - couldn't share this disease of a female with anyone else.

So he reached out and grabbed a dainty wrist that had been nestled in her bosom as she curled away from him and pulled her body forward, an arm wrapped around that tiny, tiny waist and pulled her back against his chest to shield himself from her struggling arms. His legs parted to cradle her body against his and he bent his head to place his mouth by her ear. "Stop moving." his words prompted a renewed vigor in her and she fought to pull away the arm holding her hostage. "I said stop!"

He placed his palm flat on her abdomen and pressed her completely against him and when she froze he was certain that she could feel him beneath his trousers. "You're despicable," she bit out. Her elbow dug into his gut and he doubled over momentarily while she fled to the wall across the hall and caught her breath. His eyes followed her, looking up angrily from his lashes.

Never had she seemed so small to him than when he charged at her and pinned her wrists beside her head. "And who do you think you are? I _own_ you." He leaned in close to her until their noses met, his lips hovering above hers. "'Tis laughable. A maid? Refuse _me_?" He crushed her then, his teeth smashed against the inside of his lips and against her sealed lips, he poured out his frustrations. "What's the matter, _Lady Blair_? Am I not as good as Nathaniel?" Her eyes snapped open and he barked a cruel laugh at the idea that she had honestly believe she could fool him. "I'll let you in on a little secret: I've known ever since we met, but I let you continue your childish little game. But from your little exploration trips with my good friend, I see you are not a child and therefore, I insist that we play a... different sort of game."

She turned her face when he leaned down again, and his lips met a soft cheek. "If you know of my title, then I suggest you get your paws off of me, you scoundrel. Lest I have your head for assaulting a lady."

"Let me make a few things clear, _my lady_. You are my property, as so bestowed upon me by His Majesty. Therefore, I may do with you what I wish. Secondly, do you really believe after you've been traipsing around with Nathaniel that anyone would believe you to be as virtuous and pure as you say?"

"Nathaniel would never do anything like this."

"Oh? Then you do not know of his scandal involving Lady van der Woodsen, who believed herself to be so in love with Nathaniel only to have him leave her for another seafaring adventure with me. She herself wasted no time in marrying someone beneath her station to save her reputation. Everyone in court knew that my dear friend had stolen her maidenhead-"

"You are shameless for speaking of such things. Undoubtedly you have been involved in countless scandals yourself, _Chuck_."

"Yes, my dear sweet lady." He let go of her right hand and traced a finger down her cheek, his left hand intertwining his fingers in hers. "But I admit to them. I doubt Nathaniel had said anything of the blond beauty he had once admired."

"And you, you are the one who pulled him away from her. You are the one who cannot stand to see your friend happy and lured him away. You are even more vile than I first believed you to be."

"Think what you will, Blair, but I assure you Nathaniel was relieved to board that ship with me."

"I don't believe you," she bit out. Her free hand came down hard across his cheek. "And I never will." Before Chuck could recover from the stinging pain that she had left in combination with the dizzying effects of alcohol, Lady Blair picked up her skirts, and fled.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you so much for your responses! I'm glad you guys stuck with me :)

The Rose's Ruse

Chapter 7

She woke up to her own sheets - _finally_ - and the sun shown through the window and warmed her back as she curled to her side, her knees bent up to her chest. It had been the first time in days that she had stayed in bed past sunrise. She really was not sure how Jenny did it all those years.

_Jenny_...

The long strands of golden hair lingered on the pillow beside her and she smiled at the memory of her friend who held her through the night as she cried. She could still feel the way her heart pounded when she flew into the room and threw herself to the floor by the bed, sobbing violently into her hands. The blond had wordlessly lifted her by the elbow and led her onto the bed, brushed back the brunette hair with her thin hands, waited until the shaking subsided and listened patiently as she recounted her encounter with their new master of the house.

She swung her legs onto the floor and sighed. Time to confront her demons, _or rather one single demon_, she supposed.

Her layered lace sleeves felt heavy as she pulled her arm through and she missed the mobility that the simple cotton dresses had granted her. The sides of her hair was pinned back and after looking herself once in the mirror, she stepped out of her quarters, walking right by the books that she had previously begged for.

The key was loud even as she turned it as slowly as she could. Normally she wouldn't bother with such measures of security, but after his little display last night, she could not be sure exactly what that lecherous fiend was capable of. She closed her eyes and took a long deep breath. She could do this. She could face him. She did nothing wrong...

"Lady Blair." She turned at the sound of her name from his lips. There was also the matter of explaining the situation...

"Nathaniel. I suppose you heard." It was difficult to meet his eye knowing that she had been lying to someone whom she genuinely believed to be a good person, despite his mistakes. She would look into that later, but for now, she had her own apologies to make. "I am so _so_ sorry for deceiving you. You must understand. You and Chuck were strangers moving into our house and we knew nothing of you and-" All right, so perhaps she did not do any of this for political or logical reasons, but Nathaniel certainly did not have to know that.

He smiled gently, something she was familiar with and she let out a sigh of relief. "It is perfectly all right. I understand completely and I must say that it's downright clever. Now, may I escort you to breakfast, milady?" He offered his arm and she accepted it with a grin. If things went her way, she could see this as the next thirty years of her life...

***

He had a headache and he wanted nothing more than to have this woman shut the hell up. Lady Waldorf had swept in like a storm this morning, insisting on a proper breakfast for them both. When he first met her, he wondered briefly how Blair would have managed to continue her charade. Their features were undeniably similar, from the dark brown hair to their large chocolate eyes. She must have gotten her full lips from her deceased father though, because as Lady Waldorf flapped her thin, rouged lips, he had absolutely no desire to pay attention.

"Would you like more tea, Lord Bass? Jenny, come fill the lord's cup!" He rested his chin on his palm as he smirked up at the servant girl he had been dining with for the past few days. The poor thing was shaking like a leaf and nearly knocked over the porcelain as a result. "Oh, what is the matter with you, girl? I certainly hope you did not behave in such a manner while I was gone!"

"Oh, absolutely not, Lady Waldorf. Jenny was positively delightful and behaved quite _ladylike_." He looked up at her while she stood beside him, trying so desperately to get her wits about her. The poor thing, she was merely collateral damage. "Honestly, I do not blame Jenny for anything that may have occurred during my visit. And really, it has been a quiet few days. Everything was run quite smoothly, so much so that I would hardly notice anything amiss." Her pale eyes darted to her mistress and to every corner of the room before landing on him. He nodded, hopefully conveying the fact that he did not blame her for her mistress' idea of fun. Who knew though, because he had hardly ever had the opportunity to bestow forgiveness. He turned back to his... could he say hostess? Technically, he ruled over her now. "Lady Waldorf, I insist that you waive the formalities and call me by my given name."

"Well, Lord Charles, if you insist-"

"Mother, no one alerted me of your return!" His eyelids snapped wide open when he beheld her in all her glory, dressed in plain jewels and cloths, but still more stunning to him than the ladies who batted their eyelashes at him at royal balls. He caught her eyes, which instantly narrowed in hatred and suspicion. He snarled back at the sight of her arm on that of his best mate. Of course she would already have the poor boy wrapped around her manipulative finger, besotted by her very presence.

"Oh, don't interrupt, dear. It is rude." Ever the gentleman, Nathaniel pulled out a chair for his arm accessory before sitting down at the table himself. All the while, Eleanor looked on approvingly. "Lord Charles was just telling me about how he spent his time here in my absence. I do hope you have been kind and hospitable rather than up to your old tricks." The mother-daughter pair exchanged a meaningful look and Chuck couldn't help but find himself intrigued by how the girl must have behaved as a child, how mischievous and full of life she must have been.

He marvelled at how her face remained perfectly stoic and pleasant. "It has been... uneventful, mother." She hardly spared him a glance and he was impressed, since his own best mate was shaking his head and glaring at him in a way that may have seemed subtle to a blind man.

"Yes," he agreed, keeping his eyes on Nathaniel in hopes that he could reassure him enough to stop his seizing. "It has been uneventful."

"Yes well, I hope we keep it that way, shall we?" The lady returned to her tea. "Jenny! Now where is that girl? She has been moving as a sloth all morning."

"Oh mother, do not blame Jenny. I kept her up late last night after-" Her eyes drifted to his and he knew exactly what she had recalled and looked away. "-after I ripped my dress by accident. I was so distraught that Jenny stayed awake to mend it for me right away."

***

"Wait, Waldorf." Before she could utter a word, Blair was pulled into her father's old office by the elbow and the door was shut. She shrugged out of his hold, and yes, she knew because only he would have the audacity to manhandle her in such a way. She recognized his touch and was disgusted with herself.

"Why? So you may assault me again? Mind yourself, Bass. My mother is home now and Nathaniel knows of my true self and does not care. If you try anything, I will scream." She walked by the windows and made no effort to escape. After all, she knew that if it came down to it, her small frame could never overpower his.

He breathed a sigh and closed his eyes. "Must you always make things so difficult, girl?" His boots echoed within the high ceilings and wallpapered walls as he walked towards his desk and poured himself a glass of scotch. Blair could not help but roll her eyes because of course, alcohol was exactly what this situation required. "All I was about to suggest was that we call a truce. I will admit that I behaved in a manner unfit of a man of my position but you have also deceived me, or at leasted attempted to do so, for days." Her eyes burned with the humiliation of knowing how foolish she must have seemed in his eyes if he had known all along.

So as her cheeks burned and her eyes grew bright, she lashed out in defense. "Oh, how generous! So you think that what you did to me is equivalent to a small ruse? I doubt popular opinion would agree-"

"Popular opinion would agree that I can do with you what I will! Did you not hear your mother, Blair? Even she submits to me so don't think for a second that I will tolerate any more of your disobedience only because I have been patient thus far. In fact, I could take you right now and no one would be able to say a word against me." Before his hand could find her waist, she ran behind the desk and gripped the back of the wooden chair. Chuck Bass had never had to force himself on a woman and the fear in her eyes was shaming. He leaned his head back with a sigh. "This is not how this conversation was supposed to go."

"Oh yes, I am sure _conversation_ was what you had in mind."

"Please, if I wanted you I could buy a hundred, a thousand girls just like you."

"Well then please feel free to return to your whorehouse and leave us alone."

"Lucky for you I am sticking around so either you get used to it and accept my peace offering or we can battle this whole thing out. Do keep in mind that your fate, in combination with everyone else's in this household, rests in my hands."

His eyes drifted to the way she chewed her lower lip and suddenly he remembered exactly how it felt against his, how she tasted and smelled like when she breathed on his face. He hardly ever found anyone endearing, but he could not help himself as he watched her furrow her brows and stomp her foot before muttering, "fine."

Pleased and somewhat frightened at the realization of his close observation, he nodded wordlessly and opened the door to let her out, backing away as she walked by. Her wide skirts brushed against his foot and he felt the tremor all the way up his spine, though he dismissed it as a repercussion from his alcoholic binge the night before.

Still, it appeared as though he required a doctor for his nausea.

***

"Nathaniel?" Nathaniel Archibald looked up from his seat across from Chuck, broken out of his reverie at the sound of his name.

"Yes, Chuck?"

"For how long do you think father would punish me were we to leave this place immediately?" The day was warm and the Bass heir had left the top of his shirt open, his jacket just hanging from his shoulders. Nathaniel thought he looked every bit the pirate prince he was.

"Surely you would not dare to directly disobey Lord Bass. You must know that the cost for that is more than we can pay." He thought about how much Bartholomew had helped his own father and how, in so many ways, had acted as his own father that the thought of betrayal was nearly painful. Yet, Chuck was his brother, after all. "What is the matter, Chuck? We have not even been here a fortnight."

"Aye, and I am already bored." The captain's boots crossed on the surface of the desk and he had leaned back as the very picture of inpropriety. "This country lifestyle does not bode well for my health. Certainly, there must be something we can say to persuade the old man to change his mind."

"This visit is not all bad, Chuck." He thought about the way Lady Blair smiled at him as they rode through the streets of the town, how delightful she had been with the simplest of trinkets and could not help but smile himself. "I do hope that you are more considerate in your words when you converse with our lovely hostesses."

"Never knew you had a thing for old widows, Nathaniel." He ignored the chiding. No one knew him quite like Chuck did. "Yes, I know you are absolutely smitten with the girl, but just tell me how long this will last so I can prepare to set sail again. I have decided since this stay is a punishment for my lifestyle, father could hardly do worse to punish me for abandoning my punishment."

"How long?"

"Your infatuation, Nathaniel. Your fascination. How long before you seal the deal and we can head off as we do." No one knew him like Chuck did, but on the same token, no one knew Chuck like he did. He could detect the slight edge in his voice, as though he had bit down in the back of his mouth and fought the words out.

"That is crude, Chuck. Even for you. Lady Blair is... different. Sweet, beautiful, clever, unlike any of the girls we have ever encountered."

"I recall you saying the exact same words about Serena."

It was not fair, revisiting that saga of their lives. Their affair had been short-lived, the attraction was instant but the sparked burnt out and the excitement faded. The pressure of a courtship was suffocating and neither was prepared for it. Still, he held a fondness for her. With Blair, it was easy. No one knew about them (not that there was anything to know about yet) and it seemed no one cared. She was warm and welcoming and when she had kissed him gently and shyly on the cheek before running off, laughing into the meadow, his heart fluttered at the sight of her with her dress billowing about her.

"At any rate, I advise, for your own good, Nathaniel, that you make your affair with this girl as short as possible." At that, Nathaniel was surprised. Chuck hardly ever interfered with his relations. If anything, he encouraged them. "The girl is full of tricks, Nathaniel. She will run circles around your head and the next thing you know, you will wake up one day a married man shackled for the rest of your life. Goodness knows that Eleanor Waldorf is eager to find the girl a husband."

"Would that be so terrible, Chuck?" It was in that moment that he knew there was something beneath the surface between Chuck and the current object of his affections. The way his eyes flew to meet his and the way his jaw worked beneath his cheek. He was not sure what it was but he was certain that, if nothing else, the girl had managed to get under his skin.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you for being patient! I've had major writer's block on this and I have a short attention span!

The Rose's Ruse

Chapter 8

"Have I done something to make you angry, Nathaniel?"

"Of course not, milady, why would you say that?"

"I just... haven't seen much of you is all."

This was the precise moment Nathaniel had been trying to avoid all month. For a girl as clever as she, he was certain that she would have confronted him sooner. After all, they had been inseparable during those few blissful days before he knew. He didn't want to see it because he did like Lady Blair quite a bit, but... Chuck was his brother. Yes, of course he knew of his reputation with women and of course he cared deeply for the beautiful flower who stood before him, but he could hardly ignore the voice in his head that nagged at him, saying she could be the one; the one who could turn his womanizing brother into the person he so desperately wanted to become, the person who would make Lord Bass proud.

"Will you accompany me into town today? There are a few things that I-"

"-I'm afraid that would be impossible." He turned from her and faced the window. Chuck had always told hiim that he could not lie with his eyes. He held his back rigid and straight, dignified and respectable even as he knew that he was about to do something unforgivable. "We have not been very wise in these few days together, I'm afraid. You are at the age of marriage and I have my duties to fulfill for Lord Bass. To be seen together in such an indecent manner-"

"-indecent?" Her voice cracked and his heart ached at the tears drowning in her throat, but he had to do this properly and cleanly. It was only fair.

"Regardless, I believe it would be best if we weren't so... liberal around each other."

"Is that how you truly-"

"Yes." He was resolute and in the air, in her foosteps as she walked away, he could taste the exact moment when Blair Waldorf froze, inch by inch, vein by vein. She left a frost in the air that bit at his bones and he prayed that he had done the right thing by her.

* * *

She broke into a run the moment her foot touched the dirt road, and when she slammed open the stable door, Daniel and Jenny dropped the bridle and saddle they had been carrying. "I need to break something."

"Lady Blair, what ails you?" They saw in the way her slender shoulders shook that something had gone horribly wrong. Not a line of joy or humor could be detected on her face.

"I need to break something," she repeated with a slight tremor in her voice.

"A pile of twigs that I have broken off from the firewood lies behind-"

Before Dan could finish, she had taken the ax from its place against the wall and stomped past them, the blade making a harsh sound as she dragged it across the ground behind her. The pair winced when they heard the cracking noises and her exasperated grunts. "Do you think she is all right, brother?"

"Of course not. Finish preparing Master Chuck's horse and I will ask if she requires anything... less destructive."

"Good luck."

* * *

She was a mess the likes of which he had never seen on her before. Pieces of woodchip and dried leaves nested in her hair and tangled in her skirts. Her craftfully styled hair fell to ruins, strands hanging madly and haggardly around her flushed face. When she swung the ax, she let it hang behind her in her hands, her elbows up in the air so that she may depend upon the momentum when she brought the metal down uon the mess of twigs resting on the ground. Dan had to watch himself lest he die by her hand in a way that was too violent and bloody for his poetic soul. "Would you... would you like to talk about it?" He stayed a safe distance from her.

"If I wanted to talk, Daniel, I wouldn't bother dirtying up my dress, now would I?"

He watched her chop the already compressed twigs into little bits and pieces of the floor and looked at her face, flushed and distressed. "It might offer you some relief if you talk about it. Recall that time when I, by complete accident and no fault of my own, tore all of Lady Eleanor's corsets when I was trying to-"

"No amount of talking, Dan, will make Nathaniel Archibald less of a heart-breaking scoundrel. In celebration of my complete loss of faith in men, I must destroy things. Do you understand, Daniel?"

At this, he was puzzled. If he had to declare any single person within their household to be infuriating to the degree of violence, it would have to be Master Chuck. "Uh... no, I don't believe I do understand."

She turned to him then, her expression almost savage, and pointed the blade in his direction. "Of course you don't! You are of that most atrocious gender that holds no guilt about ripping the hopes and dreams of a young girl to shreds! Now get out and let me break things!" Daniel required no further warning. It was always a bad idea to argue with Lady Waldorf while she was angry and held a sharp object in her hand. Subconsciously, he rubbed the scar at the edge of his palm and recalled a time when she was but a child and he had tried to convince her to finish her plate.

No, Daniel did not wish to be decapitated today.

* * *

"It is still not ready? It has been a while since I asked you and your brother to prepare my horses. I suppose that is just the quality and efficiency of work I should expect from someone who has never been outside this God-forsaken village." Chuck leaned against the wooden beam at the front of the back house and stared at the blonde while she worked. "And where is that brother of yours?"

The door in the back opened and in came dull little Daniel Humphrey rushing past as though spirits were after his soul. "Ah, speak and he doth appear. Tell me, my good, and I use that term with much hesitation, man, what kept you from completing the tasks that the master of the house asked of you?" Chuck really had no patience for this today. Truly, he justed needed to get out of this house, meet some women and perhaps get quite... familiar with a few of them. It had been far too long.

"Master Chuck! I was just... well out back there was a situation and..."

"Boy, you have to learn to distinguish when I actually care about what you have to say and when I don't. Most of the time it will be the latter."

The rambling fool fell silent and Chuck was relieved. He was not prepared for another detailed itinerary of his day thus far. No one needed to know exactly how Daniel Humphrey spent his day from morning to night. Then the little blonde spoke out as she brushed the horse's mane. "Lady Blair was... upset, Master Chuck."

"Oh?"

"Oh yes, very much so." Just as Chuck began to walk in the direction of the harpy's wrath, Daniel stood in his path. "Despite your crass manner with us, Master Chuck, I sincerely do not wish for any harm to befall upon you. Therefore, I beseech you, save yourself and leave her be. I myself was nearly beheaded for providing comfort on the sole ground that I have external male organs."

Chuck's face curled in disgust. "First order of business, Humphrey. I never want to hear about _any_ of your organs again nor do I need to know anything about your methods of reproduction. Secondly, _never_ compare yourself to me please. Someone is bound to be embarassed. Lastly, when I say someone, I hope you understand that I mean you." He pushed at the servant's shoulders with his fingertips and brushed them against each other as though a thick layer of dust had settled upon it. "When I return, I hope that my method of transportation will be ready and the two of you will have scurried back to the house." Without another word, he stepped through the door from which Daniel had just come out.

He was expecting to see yards of white lace covering a girl doubled over in tears, but Chuck had forgotten that country ladies were... rather eccentric. It was comical, certainly, to see her chopping away harmlessly. The twigs hardly made much more than a tiny crack of a noise. He could laugh.

But then he saw her face.

She had been so full of smiles for the past few days that it was strange to see her lower lip trapped in a frown and her brow furrowed up in concentration. Finally, her arm hung loose, weighed down by the ax in her hand with the blade resting lightly on the floor. Slowly, he clapped. "Bravo."

She turned to find him leaning against the door. Why did he always do that? "Fantastic. This is exactly what I need. I would say, spare me your ridicule, but I doubt you would listen."

"I hope, Ms. Waldorf, that you are not trying to procure firewood. This would hardly do." The massacre had resulted in little scraps of wood lying reckless on the floor, each measuring barely four centimeters. "Also, we have manservants for that sort of thing. Really, you country girls don't know much, do you?"

Her face turned red as she dropped the ax and stalked toward him and just as her scowl was about to spit out another acidic reply, something strange happened. There was a twitch. And another. And suddenly, her whole face seemed to just crumple upon itself as tears poured down her cheeks to mat in her hair. All right, so this was what Chuck had been expecting when he walked in, but now he was rather lost at what he should do. He put a hand on her shoulder and said, "there, there." That appeared to be... customary, was it not? Oh, he was no good at this sort of thing. His only interactions with women were... encounters.

"I thought - I thought he liked me!" He was surprised when she actually assaulted him. Well, not so much, but she did just grab the handkerchief out of his pocket without a word! She wiped her face pitifully. "We were having such fun together but now... now he wants nothing to do with me!"

"Are you speaking of..."

"Nathaniel, of course! Your heartless dandy of a companion! This is entirely your fault!"

"M-my fault?"

"Had you not come here, I never would have met Nathaniel and I _never_ would have had my heart broken! Does that bring you joy, you devil of a man?"

He had learned long ago that women do not listen to reason, so he sighed. "All right, then. What will you have me do, my lady? Murder my best friend to calm your anger?"

"Ha! I would have run his heart through with a dagger had I been sure that he possessed such a thing. Now I am not so sure." This exclamation brought about a new round of tears and she dabbed at her face lightly with the cloth. He winced at the big wet spots spreading across his 100% silk handkerchief. Goods such as that are meant to be decorative, not useful.

Still, he put his arm around her when he saw her little body shaking from her sobs. "Come now, my dear. 'Tis not so bad. Nathaniel is hardly the only man in the world and there is much fun to be had. I have yet familiarized myself with the town. Let us go on an adventure now, shall we?"

"But it is hardly an adventure for _me_! I grew up here." Her voice was calmer now, small like a mouse. He wasn't sure which he preferred.

"Well then consider yourself a kind soul navigating a stranger through your homeland then. I will not beg, but I ask only for the consideration of those poor, helpless twigs." She stared at him for a long minute, weighing her options. It was just as well, really, because he could feel the skin of her arm, warm and most likely soft under her sleeve and smell the soaps she used and he was beginning to feel that old familiar feeling. Perhaps it _was _for the best if she...

"All right then. Let us go."


	9. Chapter 9

The Rose's Ruse

Chapter 9

The adventure wasn't what Chuck had in mind. Sure, once, when he was still a free man, he had stopped in small villages on his journeys across the seas and thought he had met several Blair Waldorfs in his lifetime. A trinket here, a compliment there and the maid would blush straight into his bed. So he laid it all out. He sung poetry of the countryside view and complimented the god-forsaken simplicity of the townsfolk. He complimented the way her hair lit up in the sun and her expertise in riding.

It turned out that there was only one Blair Waldorf in the entire world, and he was not prepared for the likes of her.

The girl was more temperamental than the ocean herself. One moment she would stare blankly at the wide expanse of grass and trees in which Chuck found hardly anything worth staring at. The next, she snapped at his attempts at poetry and found his compliments condescending. He listened tentatively to her descriptions of various shops and people almost in fear of once again being reprimanded. Nothing he said was right. She seemed to love these people each individually, but she bore a deep loathing of their provincial existence. But just when he thought he had her all figured out, she would reach over and fix his collar and grant him a smile.

Upon their return that evening, Chuck had given up all attempts of calculating his words to elicit a desired response from her. Prediction in such a girl seemed near impossible. Instead of flattery then, he focused on other... assets of a woman that he found captivating and even he must admit, the shrew was a fine specimen.

The fierce sun had forced the girl to pile her hair into a knot and exposed the span of smooth white skin of her neck. The way it curved down her spine and the way it then dipped into her waist left his mouth dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of his oral cavity. Even the simplest comparison between the girl and the sea eventually drifted to thoughts of him charting the maiden voyage.

Chuck shook his head. Surely, if Nathaniel knew what he thought of his new interest, his best friend would kick him to hell below.

And this was another curious case. Only days ago, Nathaniel had been annoyingly aglow with delight at the chit's company. Yet now, the girl's ire burned even brighter than her enthusiasm had that rainy day when she came barging into his dinner. It seemed that Nathaniel had rebuked her, but it was a rare occurrence for Nathaniel to tire of a girl as quickly as he normally did. Also, there was no way that a girl like Blair Waldorf, who insisted on being referred to as _Lady_ at every turn, would spread her legs so quickly. If not for her virtue, her cunning nature would be wise to the fact that her virtue was one of the few valuable bargaining tools for a respectable woman. The way Nathaniel spoke about her before, as well, had given Chuck the impression that this may have been the one to separate them indefinitely when he once again went on his adventures while his brother stayed behind to play the obedient husband.

Since his arrival to this backwater patch, apparently, the world had gone mad.

* * *

Lady Eleanor caught her daughter, unkempt and breath ragged from her day in outside, just in time to criticize her inattention to her delicate complexion. Where was her hat? Did she wish to become brown in the sun just like the field workers in the outer edges of their property? Even as Blair undressed and immersed herself in the bath prepared by her handmaiden, she swallowed back the scathing replies that were jumping at her throat. Yes, she supposed being outside did lighten her mood from before, but she was still quickly remembering the conversation with Nathaniel, the humiliation of being rejected so frankly.

She almost groaned at how desperate she must have looked. A woman actively pursuing a man for a moment of his day. What sort of spell had Archibald put her under?

"Although, I was most pleased to hear that you and Chuck are finally spending some time together. It would do us well to get along with him and remain well connected to the boy. Young and brash he may be, but he is, by law, our master now. I do wish for the two of you to spend more time together"

"And I wish for father to burst from heaven and slay the undeserving bastard with a shining blade, but I don't particularly foresee that in the stars, mother." She sighed as her muscles relaxed under the gentle embrace of the water and willed her mother to disappear.

"Oh, Blair, must you be such an unpleasant girl?"

Unpleasant. Perhaps that was the reason why Nathaniel wanted nothing to do with her anymore. "Because you raised me to be so, mother." And just as she expected, it did the trick. Lady Eleanor Waldorf walked out the door with her head held high and a great, dignified sniff.

Peace at last. It was a shame that the only time a woman could have some time to herself was when she chased her mother out of the room while she was in a bath. Blair ran a cloth down her bare calf, lifted right into the air so that the water could wash off of it as she scrubbed away the grime. She arched her foot, the tip of her toes reaching for the sky and pondered her day. It was true that Master Chuck was polite, if not downright kind in her distraught state. Even when she was less than polite to his attempts at conversation.

Still, she could not quite get the feel of his lips against hers that night against the stairwell, the pressure of his body against hers. It was nothing quite like what she had ever felt - nothing like the warmth that spread through her body from her pumping organ out to her very fingertips.

No. He consumed her. Each kiss, he had devoured more of her soul with his lips, covering more and more of her even in those brief moments. Like a string was being pulled down her body, he drew her closer to him with his mouth, pulling her up. Higher and higher. The fire, a raging heat that scorched the very ground beneath her feet, went rampage, flushed against her very skin.

No, she was quite sure there was nothing short of satanic about that sort of hellfire. Even thinking of it now, her skin flushed of its own accord. As though his eyes were watching that very moment.

* * *

Chuck Bass tried to remember those days when he could have any woman in his bed. Or rather, several women in his bed. Of his choosing. The confidence he acquired from never having been rebuked from a member of the opposite sex - that was something he missed. He wondered if any man in this place ever had any self-respect? Lord Waldorf, a great father though he was, seemed as though with the slightest flick of either of the Ladies Waldorf's fingers, would scramble to the edge of the world to search for whatever treasure they desired.

Chuck had once vowed never to become such a dog to any woman. No. Never would there be a creature who would have his soul wound so tightly around her little whims that he could abandon his plethora of women for just that one. It would be as absurd as trading an entire world full of rubies for a single, perfectly round and iridescent pearl.

Yet here he was, in a dark corridor, only a slit of lit skin from the door that swung slightly ajar - just enough to give him the perfect view. It was all he could do to stop himself from falling upon his knees and crawling to that beautiful limb, slick from the fragrant bathwater and bathing in the candlelight, and worshipping it with his lips. To move his mouth, trailing a path further and further up until he could bury his face right there between her undoubtedly perfect thighs. To hear the proper Englishwoman in her fall apart in pants and moans, fingers gripping his hair, her undoing at his tongue.

From his angle, he could not see much else but the slight swell of the top of her breasts that rose above the water where she sat. Her hair pinned, he saw that expanse of neck and shoulders, upon which a beauty mark laid, awaiting his kiss.

It was a crime for such a body to go about unpleasured. Like a Marlowe play gone unperformed, never to see the light of day, yet always lurking, hoping for someone to happen upon it bathing and become tantalized to the point of obsession, waiting for someone to curl his tongue around its words until the whole thing fell into a beautiful chaos. As his hand wrapped around himself and squeezed, he could hardly wait for the second act.

Yet, they do say the anticipation was thrilling, and so he returned to his room, the thoughts of that neck never quite far from his thoughts.

* * *

"I am free!" The post had come late the next afternoon, but even Chuck could not complain due to the extraordinary news it carried. "Nathaniel! Come have a drink with me! I am free!" He was positively jubilant and could hardly wait for a servant to bring him their finest wine.

Nathaniel's footsteps echoed down the staircase before he came into view. "I was not aware that you were shackled in chains." A drink was shoved into his hand before he had a chance to protest the noise. It would hardly do for two gentlemen of their position to act so rambunctiously while two ladies resided under the same roof...

"Oh, Nathaniel, every step I take upon this earth is restricted by boredom - the worst sort of prison. But now, the old man has finally seen the light! Ah yes, it will be glorious indeed!" He threw back the glass in his hand, a flourish of white billowing sleeve in front of him. "Come now, boy. Keep up!" He filled Nathaniel's glass to the brim, even if he had not yet taken so much as a sip.

"What is all this noise? Please refrain from behaving as though you are in a whorehouse."

"Blair! That is hardly polite!" The two ladies entered and sat at the table, but not before Blair and Nathaniel shared an uncomfortable glance. The two had been avoiding each other, cutting corners and turning in corridors since that day when Blair had come back from the town with Chuck.

"No matter, Lady Waldorf! I am in such a mood that not even your daughter's sharp tongue can dampen my spirits!" Jennifer took the bottle from his hand before his swaggering spilled a staining drop of red on his shirt while her brother brought in a fresh plate of dried sweets. "Ladies, gentlemen." He paused and raised his glass to Daniel, who stood uncomfortably to the side. "Daniel." The scribe had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. It was hardly news that his master, who now waved a cream colored envelope and card in the air, saw him as his latest plaything. "This, my friends, is a letter forwarded from Lord Bass for my return to polite society." He made a grand gesture of clearing his throat and reading from the card. "Captain Charles Bass, your presence is requested at the annual May Masquerade hosted by your friends, Sir Aaron Rose and Mrs. Serena Rose."

Blair watched Nathaniel's eyes shift at the mention of the lady's name and when his eye caught hers, he looked away. A sudden wistful air overtook her and she could hardly listen to the rest of Chuck's ridiculous celebration.

"Oh, that all seems grand, does it not, Blair?" Her mother nudged her painfully in the ribs where the boning of her corset dug into her skin and she winced. "Of course it does, dear. Perhaps Charles would not object to extending his invitation to include you."

"Mother, that is hardly appropriate."

"I am sure that will be fine. You are always going on about wanting to get out of this place. You used to beg your father, bless his soul, to take you to court with him!" Blair blushed red to the very roots of her hair. Of all the people in the world, Nathaniel Archibald and Charles Bass did not need to know any more about her.

"Madam, I am in a benevolent mood. I will gladly accompany Blair for her London debut." Before she could open her mouth to object, plans were made.

It was settled then. She was off to London.


	10. Chapter 10

The Rose's Ruse

Chapter 10

The little hairs that escaped from the hair knot Dorota had so skillfully tied tickled the back of her neck as the breeze picked up on the hillside. Blair looked over the little village that had been her home for all her years and, while she resented its homeliness during all that time, she couldn't help the nostalgia that rushed up her nasal passage and stung her eyes with tears. She would be back, surely, but the heroine in her felt the ties that had been forming between her memories and every grain of dirt under the children's feet.

She wiped at her eyes when she heard footsteps behind her - so comfortable was she in this place that she could feel the very air move. "Don't worry. I'll take very good care of everyone while you and Chuck are away."

The past week had been tense between herself and the man with whom she had once fancied herself in love. "I know."

"Blair, I..." There were a million words caught within him, running miles through his veins and pounding against his chest. They just couldn't seem to find their way to his tongue. Instead, he brought his hand to the small of her back, where the bodice of her dress blossomed out into a flurry of rose and cream. He was so close, the tip of his fingers almost touched the boning of her gown, but he fought against his instinct and curled his fingers back into a fist.

She closed her eyes. Tears for everything they could have been stung at the back of her lids. Everything she dreamed when she first saw him step off the ship in his shining armor. "I have to go," she whispered. And she ran, down the small hill to where her mother stood by the carriage.

He watched her run and never once looked back.

* * *

"We're all set to leave then, yes?" Her voice sounded shaky even to herself and she took a deep breath to calm the way her insides jumped and shivered.

"Of course, milady." Blair furrowed her delicate brow. He had been acting like this for days and it was unnerving to say the least. The sudden genteel manner with which he paraded around her home disturbed her so much that she avoided him to the best of her ability and he seemed to be doing the exact same thing.

"How many days until you reach London? And do send me a post once you have arrived safely," Eleanor said, showing the first hint of motherly affection since Blair consented to her departure.

"Four, if we hurry. It would be much quicker by ship, but it seemed that Lady Blair rather objected to the idea."

"Hmph!" Blair protested from her seat high within the carriage. "It certainly will not do for me to make my debut from a pirate ship. Now come along, Bass. We should leave if we are to arrive at our first stop before nightfall. I would loathe to keep your companionship after dark."

He gave a wry grin, one that suited him much more than the polite smile that had haunted him for days, and she breathed a little easier when he climbed into the carriage beside her. Dorota followed suit. It would, after all, be devastating for Blair's reputation were she to travel alone with a man without a chaperon.

"Shall we, then?" With a jerk, the wheels began to move beneath him and by sheer instinct, her lace-gloved hand grasped onto the cloth covered flesh of his thigh beside her and his body gave a jolt. Dorota looked uncomfortably out the small opening of the carriage and prepared herself for a long, disturbing journey.

The ride was surprisingly silent. He rested his forehead against the wall with his eyes closed and when Blair spied his face, completely relaxed for the first time, she felt almost... motherly. He truly did possess the most striking features and the skin there, despite the lavish and philandering lifestyle with which he occupied himself, was smooth and contoured.

She swept a quick glance at her maid, who had been lulled into sleep by the steady rhythm of the road, and in an act of uncharacteristic defiance, reached out her hand, the fingertips of her lace glove just brushing against his prominent cheekbones lightly. She felt his jaw flex as she leaned her palm in and that simple motion enthralled her. The strength and hardness of his bones felt strangely masculine and the contrast between such a display and his current dress would have made her buckle at the knees had she been standing.

Her palm laid flat on his cheek and he remained motionless, eyes shut. She watched his face truly for the first time. He was quite handsome, despite his boorish behavior. His hair fell across his forehead just so and brushed his straight, honest brow. Only a devil could be so deceptively shaped. His nose, though not as straight and dignified as it could be, was not as pig-like as she used to imagine in her fits of rage. And his lips, they looked softer than she remembered from their one unfortunate encounter the night of her discovery.

He tilted his head just so, and she knew that she should pull away lest she was caught in such a compromising position, but she couldn't quite tear herself from him. Even at the very moment when he turned and placed a gentle kiss on the palm of her hand, she was frozen at the intimate gesture. She turned quickly again to Dorota to find that she was still fast asleep and when she returned her attention, she found his bottomless eyes setting her aflame.

She would burn in hell for this intrusion and she was certain of it.

So just as though he was scalding her, she flinched away but he had already gripped her wrist and peeled off her glove. The warmth of his hand seemed to radiate throughout the carriage and it felt impossible to take a breath. With his eyes ever on hers, he bent forward and placed a kiss on her wrist, his lips even hotter than his touch and she was certain she would faint.

She was moving in slow motion, even her eyelids moved at a decreased pace as she blinked. All the energy seemed to have been sapped out of her to the trail of kisses he was leaving as he continued his exploration to her shoulder until his face was so close that he was nearly upon her. He must have seen the way she burned red but if it deterred him at all, she did not notice.

Her lip trembled when she felt him on her neck and when he pulled back, his face was a hair's breath away. She felt him exhale, a burst of hot air against her lower lip, and his eyes drifted from hers to the fleshy petals of her lips. His nose brushed hers. "Chuck," she whispered, bothered and breathless. Only when he paused, his gaze meeting hers, did she continue. "This behavior is hardly fitting for a lord."

"Did you forget, Blair?" He tilted his, their noses brushing again as he angled towards her. "I'm a pirate."

"Never." It was as though a demon had possessed her being, because with her gloves discarded, her dainty fingers grabbed at his collar and pulled him to her. She felt his hand on the hip of her skirts and the small part of her that would have been scandalized - the part of her that would have remembered her father's teachings - was squashed beneath the mischievous child who once stole Daniel's clothes while he swam in the river. His tongue pulled that girl from her and in her place was a woman who wanted nothing more at that moment than this man.

The carriage gave a jerk and Chuck let out a curse that he most definitely did not learn at court. Dorota stumbled awake and only then did Blair remember her place. She pulled away quickly and threw her entire upper body to the other side of the seat, her elbow resting by the wall and her hand to her swollen lips. She avoided her maid's suspicious gaze even as her hand shook. "It is certainly warm in here, isn't it?" Blair said with a shaky voice.

Still mumbling beneath his breath, Chuck threw open the small window by his side and from behind him, Blair spied a rider astride a handsome horse. "Bass," a voice drifted in, low and sly - just as Blair had imagined the serpent from the holy Book. A face came into view and a pair of green eyes met here. "I was not aware that you had such lovely company. You're a lucky man, Bass."

"Apparently." This was a Chuck Bass she had never seen before. He sat and spoke with such a dismissive nonchalance that it seemed impossible that just a moment earlier, they had been... "Our presence is requested at court, so I'm afraid we cannot stop for a proper introduction."

A sly smile appeared on the stranger's face. "Well, then, I suppose I will have to meet your lovely acquaintance in London then, angel." With the sound of beating hooves, he was gone, just as abruptly as he crashed into her life.

"Who was that, Master Chuck?" Dorota, who seemed to have finally gathered her wits, asked.

"That." He paused, his brow more seriously than Blair had ever seen on him. "...was Lord Baizen." He tore his eyes from the empty window back toward her, still troubled. "And I'm afraid he's taken quite a liking to you."

* * *

He could feel the eyes of his female companions linger on him occasionally. Chuck knew that he was silent, pensive even, but the worry was not unwarranted. This new development could cause nothing but trouble. He had known Carter nearly all his life - learned a lot of his tricks from him, even. When it came to women, Chuck had yet to meet one who was impervious to Carter Baizen's charm and title. He should not worry so, because certainly, Carter had an entire harem of mistresses and wives just waiting to unleash their secret desires on him.

But damn, if Carter did not always favor that which was not his. From the way the rake looked at Blair, his intentions were transparent. For now, then, he would keep his distance. Feign disinterest. Perhaps if Baizen saw the lack of competition, his interest will wane.

Chuck spared a glance at those delicious lips that just moments ago he had been feasting upon. The nausea waged war upon his flesh and he had to close his eyes to stave off the headache from being so close to temptation. He was certain that he had never hated Carter Baizen as much as he did in that moment.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I'm SO sorry! I'm excruciatingly slow with this story! I know!!

The Rose's Ruse

Chapter 11

Blair frowned, her cherry lips pouted as it hadn't done since she was a child. Was she... bad? Charles (yes, Charles) was the one who had all but left his mark on her, and yet he was now acting as though she had contracted some dreadful disease.

Honestly, the way he was acting, one would think that she was the commoner of the pair. Regardless of her family's current financial situation, the Waldorfs still had history. The only history that Charles had was his days of whoring and philandering.

What was the matter with the man?

The carriage rolled to a stop in front of an inn that sat peacefully atop a hill overlooking London's warm lights. She stared out the window at the city she was always forbidden by her father to enter as a child and felt her heart pump with excitement at the very thought that her dainty foot would step upon that soil marked with sin. Her father had warned her of city men - of their lechery and lies and if Charles was any mark of a man, her father was right.

"Why are we stopping, Thomas? We haven't much longer of the road. We could reach the manor before supper if we hurry." Chuck was impatient. She could tell as much by the way his eyes shifted and his knees bumped against the seat.

"Sir, the roads are not safe after nightfall. It was per your request that we only travel by the day for fear of the lady's safety." He finally spared Blair a glance - a glance that made her breath stop yet paralyzed her from looking anywhere else except into his eyes. With a sigh, he tore himself away, departing from the carriage and entering the homely inn without a backward glance. The footman hurriedly came to take her hand to assist her from her seat.

She was certain the scoundrel found her attractive, but now...

She took her supper in her room, not keen on the idea of being judged while she ate or, worse, ignored altogether. The candle in front of the vanity mirror lit up the room and she grasped at the strings of her corset, undoing her dress until she was left in her loose cotton gown. Dorota had long gone to rest in the adjacent room and Blair was left to her own devices to inspect the lines left by the boning of her corset. She lifted the hem to just below her breast and traced a finger down the red mark there. The price of beauty was apparent on her fair skin.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous."

She quickly lowered the material and turned from her reflection to find her charge standing there, the whole of his weight leaning unsteadily on the door frame. He held a glass of scotch - the kind her father used to drink only on special occasions - and she shivered at the memory of the last time he was consumed with spirits.

"Charles."

He sneered, the candle's shadows performed a menacing dance upon his face. "Don't call me that. My father calls me that." He stumbled into the room and Blair backed away, the material of her dress brushed against the back of her calves as she hit the edge of her bed. "I won't hurt you."

"I think you should leave now, Charles." Her voice was shaky and there was a part of her - the part of her that couldn't control her shaking knees and heated skin - that wanted so desperately for him to stay.

"I said don't call me that!" He threw himself at her and the two fell neatly onto the blankets - one on top of the other. She could feel the warmth from his body through the thin material of his nightgown and the way he pinned her wrists to the soft bedding and held her eyes rendered her speechless. She shivered in the way his broad chest leaned heavily on the soft flesh of her breasts and his weight on her hip. "Are you cold?" His face loomed close over hers, . "I could warm you up."

He grazed his teeth against her earlobe and she gasped, a shuddering, excited gasp that was accompanied by the turn of her head for access. The alcohol was sour on his breath and hot on his skin. She flushed a deep red that spread from her cheek down her pale swan neck. She should have yelled stop or pushed at the very least, but he simply rendered her useless. Her legs hung limp off the side of the bed and her breath came in such short bursts that she was afraid that her entire body would just explode.

He extended her hands above her head, one hand trapping the two dainty wrists while the other slid down the side of her body. She had never felt so self-conscious as she did then, with his intense gaze gauging her every reaction and her traitorous body melting, pliable beneath his teach. "I can certainly warm you up," he whispered against her lips before he claimed them with his own, his tongue staking territory even as she tried to take a breath.

The hand on her knee curled around itself and brought the material, the hem that had skimmed the floor at her ankle, together in his grip. He slid, a rough hand brushing over her soft, pale skin where her thighs faced each other, and marveled at the velvet skin there, even softer than her face. The heel of his palm came to rest in the dusting of curls and he applied pressure just as nipped at her lip.

He wanted in. God, he wanted in and from the groans at the back of her throat, Blair was in no position to object. He could bury himself in her again and again, her breasts weighing down in his hands and her strawberry mouth all over him. He was her master, after all.

And woman. It had been so long since he had his last woman that he painfully ached to press himself inside.

She pushed against him, desire digging its claws into her for the first time and though she was not quite sure what it was that she lusted after, she was certain she could receive it from him. "Charles, please."

Her breathless voice, the way her ivory gown was loose around her shoulder and her lily white legs spread wantonly beneath him; he nearly embarrassed himself in the bedding.

But no, she had said Charles... and he remembered.

He couldn't want her. Not now.

He tore himself away as though she burned him. And she did. Oh how she did. Even as she laid on her bed, confused and immobile, she burned him.

He was certain it was hellfire.

* * *

The next day had been an awkward affair. Blair had spent the entire night agonizing over the heat he had poured over her. The ache between her legs only grew as she thought of him, his tongue rough against her neck and his hands hard and punishing on her hips. Would it not be blasphemy, she would have prayed for him to return to her room to finish what he had began. To save her from this... illness he had inflicted upon her.

So when they boarded the carriage, she sat by Dorota and took extra care to minimize any sort of physical contact with him. Likewise, he did the same.

They stopped before a majestic mansion the likes of which Blair had never seen. It would have easily spanned across her property and then some. There was a man awaiting their arrival, his age similar to her own father and at the thought of him, long-repressed tears misted her eyes. The man took her hand with a kiss as she descended and she recognized him to be Bartholomew Bass, the man who had taken away half of her father's possessions. "I am truly sorry for your loss, Miss Waldorf. Your father was a good man, but I am afraid we are all at the mercy of His Majesty's temper these days. I promise you, as long as you are in London, you are in my care. No harm should come to you."

She nodded. She could not trust herself with the hateful words that threatened to spill trouble before her.

"Father, I am unaccustomed to such a warm welcome."

The older man's face fell sternly and even Blair could feel the tension between the father and son. "Charles, I hope you've done well with the post to which I assigned you. If I hear of even one complaint from Ms. Waldorf, I will not be taking it lightly, do you understand?"

"Yes, father."

Lord Bass gave a curt nod before turning and offering his arm to Blair. "Now you must be exhausted from the journey. Allow me to lead you to your room." Blair spared Chuck a backwards glance as she walked away. She had never seen the lively pirate so put out before and the attention his father lavished on her was laced with guilt.

Perhaps coming to London was a poor decision, after all.


End file.
